William Sharp Poems

In the secret Valley of Silence
No breath doth fall;
No wind stirs in the branches;
No bird doth call:
...

In a fair place
Of whin and grass,
I heard feet pass
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"Over the hills and far away" —
That is the tune I heard one day
When heather-drowsy I lay and listened
And watched where the stealthy sea-tide glistened.
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The yellow moon is a dancing phantom
Down secret ways of the flowing shade;
And the waveless stream has a murmuring whisper
...